


Green Velvet

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-21
Updated: 2009-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten months after Harry's untimely death, Ginny embarks on a relationship with Scorpius Malfoy. Waking up after their first night together, she's happier than she has been in a long time, but it soon turns out that all is not as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> Dedication: Written in the first round of the Malfoy_Weasley exchange at LJ, as a gift for hereticalvision.   
> Disclaimer: The Potterverse is JK Rowling's, not mine. Written for fun, not profit.  
> Pairings: Scorpius/Ginny (mention of past Harry/Ginny)  
> Warnings: Angst, character death, mention of past character death, manipulation, murder. Not a happy, fluffy tale.

  


Ginny stretches her long limbs one more time and yawns. The bed is warm, soft and ever so comfortable, and she doesn't feel like getting up—not just yet, please.

  


She slowly opens her eyes and blinks, momentarily confused by her surroundings until she recalls where she spent the previous night and with whom. She never meant things to go this far, she certainly didn't plan it, but after the party…

  


It had been the Harpies' first win of the season, a shattering victory if ever there were one, and the girls, her former teammates, insisted she stick around and celebrate with them.

  


Ginny decided she couldn't exactly decline.

  


She'd left the team ten years before. The training and travelling had become too exhausting, and besides, much as she enjoyed Quidditch, she was also ambitious and wanted more than just this career.

  


So when Luna approached her one day with the news that the The Quibbler would be setting up a new, in-depth sports' section, and asked whether Ginny would be interested in becoming its editor, Ginny grabbed the opportunity with both hands. It was like a gift from the skies, precisely the kind of challenge she was looking for. 

  


Smiling at the memory, Ginny runs a hand through her hair.

  


Her small, cosy office at the colourful Quibbler building was where she first met him properly, just over three years ago.

  


Scorpius Malfoy.

  


She'd seen him before, of course. He and her youngest son were in the same year at school, but Albus and Scorpius weren't exactly friends—if anything, they made a point of avoiding one another—so Ginny was never formally introduced to him.

  


Astonished, she blinked at him when he entered, and she was extremely surprised to learn he was hoping to fill the recently vacated position of Junior Reporter. She'd seen his résumé, of course, but somehow she hadn't looked at the name.

  


Truth be told, she was reluctant to even consider him for the job initially. He was, after all, Draco's son, and worse still, Lucius' grandson. After all those years, Ginny still hadn't forgotten that horrible business with the diary. Well, how could she? It almost got her killed.

  


Nonetheless, the more she thought about it, the more she realised she didn't want to adhere to that sort of prejudice. After all, doing so wouldn't make her attitude any better than that of the Lucius Malfoys of this world. 

  


Furthermore, Scorpius' credentials were excellent, and he also possessed a sharp, witty way with words that fit the magazine's style perfectly. Scorpius had opinions and wasn't afraid to share them. It would have been foolish to do anything but hire him on the spot, so she did.

  


It soon turned out they made a great team, and somewhere along the line, he became not only a co-worker, but also her friend and confidant. 

  


And ever since Harry's death…

  


Ginny lets out a sorrowful sigh, like she always does whenever she thinks about that fateful day ten months ago.

  


Through a sad, ironic twist of fate, the last of many he had been subjected to during the course of his lifetime, the Hero of the wizarding world, the man who killed Voldemort, was slain by something as laughably mundane as a strawberry allergy. One small bite was all it had taken.

  


To this day, it remains a mystery why Harry decided to eat that strawberry. He knew perfectly well how bad his allergy was. He'd been hospitalised for it once as a child. Severe anaphylactic shock, the doctor had called it, and it could have killed Harry back then, too.

  


In the end, it was assumed the champagne must have made Harry more careless than usual. The drink had been flowing rather freely at the Quibbler's Christmas party, and as usual, everyone had wanted to toast Harry's health, so he'd felt obliged to join in.

  


Ginny sighs again. So much has changed since then, and the biggest change of all was the nature of her relationship with Scorpius.

  


She started spending more time at the office, burying herself in work, and Scorpius was usually by her side. Not before long, he went from confidant and friend to a true shoulder to lean on.

  


She supposes, looking back, that it was inevitable she should fall for him eventually. He was kind, intelligent, handsome and obviously cared for her. Her attraction towards him grew every day and became harder and harder to ignore as more time went by.

  


Last night, after the party, he confessed to her that he felt the same. He took her to a nearby loft, one that belonged to his father and where he sometimes stayed when he was in London. 

  


They were only going to talk, they both agreed on that, but nonetheless, as the tired old saying goes, one thing soon led to another.

  


Ginny smiles at the memory. She can safely say she has no regrets, even though she's equally aware that her family will probably disapprove; they'll say it's too soon after Harry's death; they'll mention the age difference and blow it out of all proportion.

  


She shrugs, deciding it will all work out in the end. Her mother wasn't terribly enthusiastic about the Quidditch plans either, but once Ginny started playing professionally, Molly couldn't have been more proud. Yes, everything will be just fine.

  


Ginny sits up slightly and stretches again, not noticing the glass of fresh orange juice on the bedside table until she knocks it over. 

  


"Bugger," she mutters, and looks around for her wand. Oops, that's right. It's still downstairs with most of her clothes.

  


She shakes her head and climbs out of bed. She'd better do something about the spilled juice quickly, before it leaves an ugly stain. 

  


She walks to the dresser, hoping to find a towel or cloth in it. 

  


She tries to pull open the top drawer, and when she realises it's stuck, she pulls harder, almost falling backwards when it finally slides open. 

  


Once she's found her balance again, she skims the contents of the drawer, and spots a green velvet jacket clumsily stuffed into the right-hand corner; this must be what made the drawer stick

  


She places her hand on the garment and blinks when she notices that a part of the left lapel has been torn off. Her blood runs cold. She remembers the piece of green fabric clutched tightly in Harry's right hand when they found him in the kitchen, not breathing and with the sweet scent of strawberries still on his lips.

  


Her head is reeling.

  


She can barely stop herself from screaming when she hears footsteps on the stairs. She slams the drawer shut and leaps back into bed.

  


Her heart is hammering in her chest. Her mind is racing a mile a minute.

  


Surely, she must be mistaken…. 

  


No. She isn't, and she's too much of a realist to delude herself. The jacket in the drawer is the same one Scorpius wore to the Christmas party, and by the time they discovered Harry, he had already left; he was probably getting rid of the evidence… 

  


Oh God, what has she done?

  


The bedroom door slowly opens. Ginny pulls the sheet higher, all the way up to her neck. Nudity never was a problem for her before, but it is now. She has never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in her life.

  


"Good morning," Scorpius says, sauntering into the room, dressed in attire that's almost Muggle. He smiles widely and Ginny can't but wonder whether his expression has always held such a strange, sinister undertone.

  


"Good morning, yourself," she replies as casually as she can manage, and forces a smile.

  


"I made you some coffee," he says, placing the tray on the bedside table. Noticing the spilled juice, he takes his wand out of his back trouser pocket and spells it away. "I'm afraid there are no elves to cater for us here, so I called for breakfast to be delivered. You do like croissants and jam, don't you?"

  


She nods automatically, wondering at the back of her mind how on earth she's supposed to swallow even a bite in these circumstances. "Yes, of course." She forces another smile. "Very much so."

  


He opens his mouth to say more, but to Ginny's relief, just then, the doorbell rings.

  


"Ah," Scorpius says. "That'll be the delivery service now. I'll be back in a tic."

  


"All right." Ginny keeps the smile plastered on her face, and doesn't allow it to crumble until she's one hundred percent certain he's halfway down the stairs. 

  


When she no longer hears his footsteps, she looks around the room again, hoping to find some kind of solution… 

  


Or better yet, an exit.

  


Of course. Relieved, she lets out a long breath. There's a fire escape ladder under the bedroom window. She noticed it last night before Scorpius drew the curtains.

  


If she's quick enough… 

  


There are some clothes in that top drawer, too. She should fit into Scorpius' shirts and trousers—she has kept her trim, almost boyish figure even after having given birth to three children, and she can easily run to the office from here, pretend to be a morning jogger, and then Floo Ron, or…

  


Right. Her mind made up, she nods determinedly to herself. She hasn't a minute to waste.

  


She reaches for the cup of coffee, and swallows the steaming hot liquid down in one long gulp. It leaves a foul, bitter taste in her mouth which she's certain isn't merely caused by the remnants of her slight hangover.

  


Merlin, how could she have been so utterly blind? She trusted him implicitly.

  


She tries to leap up, but before she's fully on her feet, she feels a dizziness overwhelming her, as if someone just hit her over the head with a heavy object.

  


Slumping back onto the bed, she doesn't yet realise it, but this time, too, she should have been more alert. 

  


She never noticed the way Scorpius briefly glanced at the drawer and the small bit of green velvet sticking out of it. She didn't see him take the tiny vial out of his shirt pocket either, the one he always carries with him, just in case he….

  


All the while, she was so busy focusing on trying to seem like her usual self, so as not to arouse his suspicion, that she didn't spot the calculating look on his face, or the tiny hint of regret that was plain to see, too: a brief flicker of 'if only'.

  


Regardless. It's too late now. A choking sensation settles around her throat, like an invisible vice tightening.

  


She gasps for breath, but she can't get any air into her lungs.

  


Her head is spinning again. 

  


The approaching footsteps don't register with her when he comes closer again, but she is painfully aware of the words spoken in a harsh, bitter voice that she has never heard him use before.

  


"You never should have started snooping. We could have had it all. You ruined everything, Ginny. I should have listened to Father. He warned me numerous times, and he was right. Weasleys always ruin everything."

  


Her final thought just before her whole world slips away, is that perhaps she'll be reunited with Harry soon, and if not, maybe the infinite silence that follows will bring her the kind of peace she hasn't felt in a long time.

  


Perhaps this way, too, lies contentment.

  


  


  



End file.
